


Broken

by orphan_account



Series: Self-Indulgent Porn [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Nook, Pain, Sex, Unfaithfulness, tentabulge, troll-sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:31:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was it. The end had come and even though you had known for so long that it was inevitable, it still hurt. It hurt like someone had stabbed a rusty knife directly into your heart and twisted it for a good measure, just in case you weren't already in enough pain.</p><p>A request by Cayden</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This hurt me to write. The only reason that I made this two parts was because I couldn't handle this in one chapter.

You knew that your relationship was falling apart. You knew that it was broken and barely staying, only held together by your sheer desperation and stubbornness. You loved him, you loved him so much that it hurt you to know that he would never love you as much as you loved him. By you accepted it, and you knew that eventually your luck would run out and he would leave you.

It had been subtle at first, things that you didn't pay any mind to; the strange faraway look in his eyes, the more frequent smiles, the way he would catch himself laughing at something and brush you away when you asked about it.

The thought entered your mind at one point, but you brushed it aside, ashamed of thinking your matesprit would do such a thing. 

You first really started suspecting when he started coming home late, freshly showered and smelling of soap that was in no way his. You denied it to yourself, even when the evidence stared you in the face in the form of bite marks and scratches that he thought he had hidden beneath a t-shirt.

You knew that he was seeing someone else, but you refused to acknowledge it. In your mind you convinced yourself that you were just being paranoid and Rufioh was a loyal and loving matesprit. 

You were lying to yourself.

At last you were forced the face the truth. It hit you like a slap in the face when he called out another's name whilst in the throes of passion that you still rarely engaged in.

You had initiated it, going to him willingly and asked him for it. He had nearly denied you, you could see it in his eyes, but in the end he gave in and layed you on the couch and fucked you.

It was nothing more than fucking. There was no love, no tenderness, there was no affection or attachment. You barely achieved an orgasm, and even that was bland and stale. He left after that, you knew where he was going, and you couldn't do anything. So you did what you always do afterwards. You cleaned yourself and the mess up, and then went to your room and wept.

For one of your rank and blood color it was almost shameful for you to cry like a wriggler over his first crush. But you didn't care. You were barely more than a wriggler, and you didn't lose your first crush, you lost your first love.

And you knew, as he came back that evening, that it was over. You knew by the way his shoulders were squared, his lips drawn tight and his fists clenched. He walked over to you and looked down at you, his eyes glassy and emotionless, everything that he was feeling was hidden.

"We need to talk."

That was it. The end had come and even though you had known for so long, it still hurt. It hurt like someone had stabbed a rusty knife directly into your heart and twisted it for a good measure, just in case it didn't already hurt enough.

You had just sat there, blank-faced as he told you that you weren't working out for eachother. Every word slipping from his gritted teeth only made you hurt worse and you had never been so thankful for the helmet you were wearing. 

It must've been a trick of the light when the whole world seemed to tint blue, because there was no way there were tears in your eyes. 

There was no way that your heart was tattered and shredded to ribbons. 

There was no way that he was holding the remains as he left.

The click of the door shutting behind him broke you. You had been holding it back and it was just too much, you couldn't do it anymore.

Your helmet fell to the floor and you collapsed on the couch, your entire body _aching_ with the pain you felt. 

You sobbed.

You cried shamelessly, burying your face in a pillow and crying your broken heart out as the love of your life walked away from you. Forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This turned out a lot more emotional and dramatic than smutty, my apologies! Forgive me!

Half an hour later, you found yourself trudging up the stairs to an entirely different apartment on the other side of town. You felt like the weight of the world was sitting on your shoulders, and no matter how STRONG you were, you didn't think you were strong enough to lose him.

You find the door you were searching for and knock on it. It takes a few minutes, but you don't really care. Soon enough you hear footsteps and the door cracks open enough for a violet eye to peer out of the small space. It widens upon seeing you, and then disappears completely as the door closes again. The sound of a chain rattling is heard and then the door swings open, revealing the scrawny, mute troll that was Kurloz Makara.

You don't say anything, and you couldn't if you tried. You feel your face crumbling as you take a step forward, arms reaching out to him.

He doesn't hesitate meeting you halfway, arms outstretched, letting you walk right into his embrace. You let yourself lose it again, your emotional trauma feeling a little less so with Kurloz holding you so securely.

You bawl and blubber and sniffle into is his shoulder, no doubt making an awful mess of him, but he doesn't complain, doesn't prod or poke or ask questions, he just lets you sob out the whole thing to him, gently stroking your back as you do.

Tears are blurring your vision and you can feel a pounding headache start to form right at the behind your eyes and start working its way up your skull.

"H-he left, Kurloz." You manage to choke out through a gasping breath. "He j-j-just le-left." You hiccup and break apart your words as you say them. Your head is aching and your eyes burn. Your skin is puffy and blue; swollen from crying.

You didn't know why you came to him, he wasn't your moirail. You decide that you just wanted someone who would comfort you, but not try to fill you with lines of sympmathizing drovle. Someone who would just let you weep.

He leads you inside and over to the couch. When you sit, you just lean into his chest, your arms tucked against your body, hands clutched under your chin like a wriggler. His arms wrap around you and you melt into his embrace.

It was warm and comforting and altogether beyond every border of appropriate there was, but you didn't give two shits at the moment.

Soon wracking sobs turned to subdued sniffles and you allow yourself to pull away from the comforting heat of his body, though you don't think you're ready to look him in the eyes.

"He left." You said again. You could barely believe it yourself, even though you had been expecting it for months. It hurt. A lot. Before you knew it you were spilling the whole story to him, starting from the first signs, clear down to you knocking on his door. 

He just watches you as you speak, occasionally breaking his mask with widening eyes or an angry scowl.

_"You need to relax, brother."_ Kurloz' voice sounded in your head, even though it sounded raspy and scratched by the voodoos, it was still an attractive voice.

You nodded slowly and let yourself be layed over by the violet-blood. He propped your head up on a pillow and you closed your swollen eyes as Kurloz left the room. You really needed to sleep, but your head hurt and you just wanted Rufioh back.

The ache returned full-force. _Had it ever left?_ Your heart throbbed painfully and you curled up, your body singing with physical pain caused simply by the intensity of your emotional trauma. You whine, a low, pained cry that one would hear from a wounded beast. 

The pain makes your fingers burn clear through and you flex your hands to try and make it go away, but it just won't stop. You eventually flip onto your back and resign yourself to the fate of forever lying on Kurloz' couch and hurting. It would be so much better than having to live. Because you would have to live without your love.

When Kurloz returned, you were stretched out across the length of his couch, staring at he ceiling as translucent blue tears painted stripes down from the corners of your eyes to our ears.

He was silent, as he always is, when he came over to you and gently wiped away your tears. He then placed a cool washcloth over your burning eyes and you nearly started bawling again just from him being so nice and considerate to someone who was nothing but an acquaintance to him.

You stayed silent as he shifted you around a little bit, pulling your long hair out from under you and laying it out over the end of the couch. You were going to inquire about his intentions, but at the first stroke of a brush through your thick strands made your throat choke up with unbidden and unwanted emotions.

Rufioh used to brush your hair.

The last time he had done so was so long ago that you can't even remember it.

But the memories are fond ones, full of joy and happiness, for they are from times when your love was returned.

You let out a shaky, stuttering sigh and gulp in a breath of fresh air, letting out a little of the pain as you exhale. 'You'll live through this.' Your mind is telling you, but your heart is saying that you should give up.

"What did I do wrong, Kurloz?" You asked quietly, your voice distorted from emtotions and distress. You were glad that the mime couldn't see your eyes. "Why wasn't I good enough for him? Why doesn't he love me anymore? Why doesn't anyone love me?"

_"People do love you, Horuss."_ Kurloz said in an uncomfortably calm voice. _"Many people."_

"No one loves me." You said as if you hadn't heard the mime's words at all. "I don't deserve for people to love me."

The motions in your hair stopped abruptly and for a moment you thought that you had chased off your friend as well. 

Until soft, stitched lips were pressing against yours in a way that made your bloodpusher ache with confused feelings.

You then realized what was happening and proceeded to freak the fuck out. "What are you doing?!" You cried out, tugging the rag away from your eyes to glare at him, eyes half-filled with disbelief. You had just lost your matesprit and he was kissing you?!

_"You are loved, Horuss."_ he whispered in your mind. _"By me and Meulin and even that stubborn douche Cronus who tries to pretend that he only hangs around because he wants into your pants."_

You couldn't stop a smile at that one. Even you knew that Cronus was sincerely attached you. The feeling was mutual between you two.

But that didn't excuse the kiss.

"Even if you all _do_ care for me," You begin. "That's not gonna help me out here, none of you are my moirail."

_"Ya'll don't need a moirail to be showing off these wicked loves I got goin' on for you, pony-bro."_ Kurloz murmured, not looking even the slightest bit put off.

You tried to look away from him, but his hand grasped your chin and held it firmly in place, making him look directly into your eyes.

Your pumpbiscuit ached and your expression softened to him as he stared at you, eyes so full of caring. It was an expression one would never expect to see on the face of a juggalo, but he looked like that for you. Because you were special to him. Because he... He loved you.

You relaxed, the last of your resistance melting away with the last fragments of your heart. He seemed to sense your change because he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to object, when it became clear that you weren't going to, he closed the gap and pressed his mouth to yours.

The first, or second technically, was soft and sweet; closemouthed and chaste. The next was anything but. He pulled back for a mere second and the surged forward, his mouth still closed, but his intentions so much more passionate.

He hummed and snuffled along your mouth and down your jaw, kissing a rough line down your neck. You could feel his jaw flexing just by his movements and you could tell how much he wanted to bite you. You were kind of glad that he couldn't, you didn't think you were ready for that.

You sucked Ina sharp breath when he suddenly had a hand teasing up under the t-shirt you were wearing, pushing it up as he felt up your body. His fingers rubbed over your grub scars and you moaned.

Just a soft touch here and a small kiss there, he was touching you so slowly that it almost hurt. It was so kind and caring, a brilliant contrast to the quick and hard you were used to.

He was worshipping your body, exposing every inch and praising it with his mouth and hands. His claws made short work of your shirt and you didn't complain. However, when he went to do the same to your pants you stopped him and shimmied out of them instead, leaving you in your boxers. Quite honestly you found the thought of him tearing them was rather arousing.

"K-Kurloz," you said, a bright blush covering your face when he knelt between you spread legs and came face to crotch with your problem. 

You would swear his blush darkened when you said his name. He leaned in a nuzzled your crotch as if he was going to pet the damned thing, but then he just tore your underwear away like he had your shirt, leaving you completely bare to his hungry eyes.

He seemed pleased that your bulge was already out, but more so by the genetic material already puddling in the couch from your needy nook. 

Thee was never a time that you wished he hadn't stitched his mouth shut more than now. Now, when he had pulled you towards him, lifting your hips and staring at your nook like he was a starving man and you were a three-course meal. 

His mouth pressed against you and you were in heaven. It was the perfect blend of soft and rough, and when he breathed a puff of air across your wet lips, you cried out.

The touches were soft and gentle, oh so sweet and tender, red covering every motion he made. From how his lips moved in slow circles over your pleasure nub, to how his fingers entered you and lovingly stroked your insides.

You were nearly drowning in the pity he was showing for you, and despairing over the fact that you couldn't pity him back.

He seemed to understand your distress and didn't push you for reciprocation of his feelings, which you were immensely grateful for.

He soon had both hands working on your nook, fingers pulling and stretching you wider than you were accustomed to. It suddenly occurred to you, in the drunken, pained stupor you were in, that Kirloz was most likely significantly bigger than Rufioh if he had to prepare you so much.

He confirmed that fact when he stood up and shucked his soft pajama pants, which he had been wearing instead of his usual skeletal costume. He was "mothrfucking" huge. There was that rumor that the Makara's were packing, but you hadn't really payed any attention to it. But, damn, when the proof was staring you In the face in the shape of a bulge about the size of his arm.

He could probably fist you and have it be less than his bulge. Fucking wow, you felt the first real anticipation for this as he stepped out of his pants, pulled off his shirt and faced you, his monstrous bulge twisting and writhing across his stomach.

You almost gasped and your heart was in your stomach when he bent over you, slipping his long arms under your thighs and pulling them up, almost bending your body in half.

You thought you were prepared for it, but when he starts pushing inside of you, you actually choke at his size. He stretched you out slowly, his bulge twisting in an undulating motion as it worked it's way into you.

Sweat beaded on your dark skin and you barely remembered that you could crush him as your hands flew up to scrabble for purchase on his shoulders. It took a lot of restraint, but you managed to not break his bones as he gave a final thrust and pushed the entirety of his length inside of you.

You could barely believe it at first, he had to have just pushed at least a good 25 inches of bulge up into you, and the proof was right in front of your face, literally, the lump in your stomach was impossible to miss from your position.

It seemed that he liked the look of it too, because he reached forward and caressed your stomach like one would an unborn child. You saw the longing in his eyes and had to look away for the intensity of it.

The pain radiating through your chest was almost enough to break you as you thought back to the times when chocolate-brown eyes had reflected the same longing.

Kurloz noticed that you were losing yourself again and he distracted you by grabbing your hips and rolling his own against you, pulling pleasures groans from both of you. You felt like sobbing and moaning and begging for more, the conglomerate of feelings came together to create your frustration that was slowly ebbing away as Kurloz began thrusting in earnest.

Swift, short and to the point, to log, slow and deep, his thrusts alternates and changed, forever keeping your mind captivated as your bodies moved together.

When you peaked, you cried out a name.

It was a name that did not belong to him.

You couldn't look at him as you both came down from your orgasms. You couldn't meet his gaze after you had just called out the name of another when he made love to you.

Tears started pooling behind your lids and you couldn't stop them from streaming down your cheeks.

You wanted to resist when he tipped your chin up, but you couldn't.

_"It's okay, motherfucker."_ Kurloz said. His voice was reassuring and you managed to look into his eyes.

You wished that you hadn't.

He was hurt, and disappointed, but he was smiling for you. And you felt immensely special for that.

"I-I'm sorry." You whispered, only to find a soft pair of lips covering your own.

_"Don't be."_

Another soft brush and he pulled back to look you in the eyes. _"I'm gonna be patient and wait for the day when you're cryin' my name."_

You gave him a small smile.

You were pretty sure that day would be long off, but you were, somewhere in your mind and heart, looking forward to it too.


End file.
